Way on top of Bent Mountain is a little town called Floyd. On Friday nights, their country store hosts a Jamboree of bluegrass and gospel music which draws people from far and wide.
Last Friday, Paul suggested we go, and take the kids. It's a bit of a drive, but a scenic one. Once we got to town, we walked around.
And eventually decided on Mexican food for dinner. It was cheap. Plus the boys like quesadillas and rice.
Now I don't know what happened between dinner and "the aftermath", but I'm suspecting that the salsa was spiked. Because our three sweet little boys went haywire crazy. They were hyped up like we'd never seen them!
It was standing room only in the Jamboree, but I couldn't even take the time to get a decent picture because the boys were all over the place.
They were trying to pull brooms and canes off the wall.
They were really insistent on some barrel diving....but I wasn't about to give my little hooligans any candy at this point!
We lasted 5 minutes in there. Seriously. FIVE MINUTES. Then we cut our losses and ran out the door. Luckily, there is still plenty to do in Floyd on a Friday night. In fact, we checked out little artisans booths...
And listened to many of the little bluegrass bands that were set up outside.
When we were walking around, Reid opened the door of a car (apparently no one locks their doors in Floyd) and jumped in. And he was on a LEASH!! Fast and sneaky!
Just look at the 3 of them. All over the place. You see what I mean?!? Spiked salsa indeed!
Cort, giving handfuls of dirt, to random strangers....
Dirty little feet, after shoe removal and rolling in mulch...
Hula hoop field - where members of the community leave hula hoops out for kids -
Paul and I were wiped on the drive home. I felt like we had weathered some sort of family natural disaster that evening. We laughed about it. And then I made him promise never to bring up Friday Night Jamboree for at least three years....